


Hail To The King

by TheMutantHonk



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Abuse, Asphyxiation, Blood, Bondage, Bulges and Nooks, Character Death, Choking, Chucklevoodoos, Cum Inflation, Double Penetration, Dubious Consent, Extremely Dubious Consent, Humiliation, Karkat being used as a bucket, M/M, Mind Control, Mind Manipulation, Mind Rape, Mindfuck, Non-Consensual, Non-Consensual Bondage, Rape/Non-con Elements, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-21
Updated: 2013-11-21
Packaged: 2018-01-02 06:48:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1053761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMutantHonk/pseuds/TheMutantHonk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Gamzee lazily opened his eyes, the first thing that came into view was his redblooded little matesprit standing before him.  He blinked, wondering what the hell he was doing, just standing there like that. If Gamzee was in bed, the little motherfucker should be right there next to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hail To The King

**Author's Note:**

> First time posting something of this nature so I'm a bit wary, but here goes nothing...

When Gamzee lazily opened his eyes, the first thing that came into view was his redblooded little matesprit standing before him. He blinked, wondering what the hell he was doing, just standing there like that. If Gamzee was in bed, the little motherfucker should be right there next to him. 

The Capricorn moved to sit up, and that was about when he discovered he really couldn't move at all. His arms were raised above him, and as he slowly woke up more and more he realized he was tied up, just like that, his wrists tightly bonded to each corner of the bed. He groaned and looked up at his matesprit, mouth opening to question his motives. Instead of the question, however, a snarl tore from the clown's throat as he caught sight of the little troll's eyes. Instead of the near crimson that he saw every day, they were a glowing lavender. Lavender that enveloped his entire eyes. 

There was only one motherfucking reason for that.

“What the motherfuck do you think you're up an' doin', brother?” he demanded, his eyes scanning the room for the mime. He craned his head, the view of their block limited, but he could easily sense his dancestor standing just out of sight. This pissed Gamzee right the motherfuck off. 

Karkat's lips twitched upwards into a smirk that didn't quite look like it belonged on his face. One of his hands moved upward, his index finger raised toward his mouth before pressing against his lips in a clear sign to “shoosh”. The highblood frowned but obeyed. He had no fucking clue what Kurloz had planned, but he already didn't like it.

He took the moment to look around. He had no recollection of how he'd gotten there, but there he lay, in the block he shared with his matesprit on their pailing platform. The room was dark, as if a couple of the lights had blown out. Gamzee's highblood eyes saw easily through the darkness, as he knew Kurloz could as well, but it would be harder for his little mutant lover. The highblood took a moment to wonder just what exactly had gone down between Karkat and the mime. The thought made his blood slowly boil. 

The little mutant drew Gamzee's attention, climbing onto the bed before him, slowly nudging the clown's legs apart by the knees. Gamzee growled quietly. 

“WON'T YOU LET YOUR BLASPHEMOUS MATESPRIT TOUCH YOU, MOTHERFUCKER?” Kurloz's voice echoed through his head.

That didn't halt the juggalo's growls at all. “Not when it ain't him all up an' doin' it his own motherfuckin' self,” he replied poisonously, biting the words off angrily.

He laughed. It was strange for the younger purple to hear him outside of his pan, but he reminded himself that it had only been his tongue the mime had mangled, not his talking cords. It was a thick sound, rough from a throat that had gone unused for years. 

Karkat spoke for the first time, that eery smirk still plastered across his features. “What makes you think I don't want to, Gamzee?”

Gamzee snarled again, jerking his body to allow himself to sit up, ignoring the uncomfortable strain in his shoulders from the restraints. He knew it wasn't his matesprit saying that. He knew Karkat was just Kurloz's puppet right then and there. Before the clown could figure out what he was going to do with his hands tied, however, Karkat held his arm up, pressing a splayed hand against the juggalo's chest. 

“I would be careful if I were you,” he warned quietly. 

A low growl rumbled through Gamzee's chest. “An' why the motherfuck is that?” he demanded. 

The Cancer's mouth grinned, displaying all those pointy white teeth of his. He held his other hand out to the side, palm up, as if he were waiting for something, and Kurloz finally came into view, placing one of Karkat's sickles into his waiting claws. Karkat adjusted his grip on the handle easily and promptly held it to his own throat without any sort of hesitation, curling the blade around his neck. 

“This is why.”

Gamzee's mouth fell open as he stared in horror for a few seconds until he turned to Kurloz, baring his deadly fangs. Before he could get a word out, before he could move another muscle, the blade began to bite into the mutant's flesh. Red dripped down the blade, down his skin. Gamzee froze, and Karkat spoke again. “You really should motherfuckin' rethink that.” 

The words he used, the slow and lazy manner Karkat spoke with, it was all wrong. Gamzee sent an acidic glare toward his dancestor, who merely smiled in response, those stitches stretching almost grotesquely against the mangled flesh. But when the hand pressing against his chest pushed backward the clown let it, allowing himself to fall back onto the bed. 

“Are you going to behave like a good highblood now?” Karkat asked. He sounded as if he were asking if Gamzee wanted him to grab a Faygo out of the thermal hull while he was there. 

The Capricorn grudgingly nodded, breathing a sigh of relief when the sickle left the bleeding flesh. The little crab placed it down beside the two of them on the bed, a clear warning. 

When it was clear Gamzee wasn't going to be a threat, the mime moved to stand behind Karkat. Gamzee eyed him warily, and unconsciously snapped his jaws at the stitched male when he raised his hand to Karkat's cheek. 

“Gamzee,” Karkat warned, reaching for the blade. The juggalo's mouth snapped shut, staring in rage at the other highblood. Kurloz clearly wasn't fucking around. He'd really do it, and Gamzee knew he would.

“Good boy,” the crab purred, dropping the weapon once more. Nothing could stop the shiver of lust that traveled through the clown's body at those words, even upon knowing it wasn't Karkat speaking. “Just lay back and enjoy the show,” he continued, leaning back against Kurloz. 

The Makara dancestor pulled the little troll into his chest, his gloved hands raised to mockingly stroke the little ones flushed cheek. He then began pulling his sweater off, slowly and surprisingly carefully. The living puppet complied, raising his arms to allow it to be pulled off. It occurred to Gamzee to wonder if Karkat was even aware of what was happening. It then occurred to him to wonder what state of mind the voodoos left him in. 

Once the shirt was off, Kurloz promptly brought a finger up to Karkat's neck, right to the wound he'd made the crab inflict upon himself. The mute gathered up a drop of the mutant red blood and smeared it across the wound, going so far as to dig his claw into the small laceration. He then brought the finger to his mouth, rubbing the crimson blood across his lips before pushing the digit past the threads of stitches and into his mouth. 

“EVEN WITHOUT A TONGUE, THIS MUTANT'S BLOOD IS DELICIOUS,” his voice floated through Gamzee's mind once more. “MUCH TASTIER THAN ANY MUTANT SHOULD HAVE ANY RIGHT BEING.”

Gamzee snarled at that. “Don't motherfucking call him that!”

“Why not?” Karkat interrupted. “It's what I am, after all. Just look at it.”

At those words, Kurloz pushed Karkat forward, hovering just above the bound troll, and leaned over him to bring his still blood-smeared finger to his mouth. Gamzee was half-tempted to open up and bit it right the motherfuck off, but that sickle was still within Karkat's reach, so Gamzee simply kept his mouth closed. It didn't stop his dancestor from rubbing the slick substance across the clown's lips like he'd done his own. A sick urge rose in Gamzee to lick his lips, to taste that delicious blood. 

“Go ahead, Gamzee.” His matesprit smiled softly at him, his lavender eyes half-lidded in a disturbing display of lust. “Taste me. I know how much you want to.”

The Capricorn bit his lip and let his eyes fall closed, trying not to groan at the words Karkat spoke. He was right. Everyone knew his blood color by now, Gamzee himself had known it for sweeps. But Karkat was still hemophobic, and would panic over the prospect of his blood spilling in the bedroom, which was part of why he'd yet to find a decent kismesis. He didn't trust anyone that much, not even Gamzee. So fuck yes, the clown wanted to taste that beautiful miracle. 

'It ain't Karkat. It ain't Karkat.' The highblood repeated this mantra to himself, but it did fuckall of nothing, especially when he tasted the blood on his teeth from where he'd bitten his lip. He bit down harder to hide his moan, breaking skin and tasting his own purple blood along with that delicious red.

The bed moved as Karkat shifted, and Gamzee opened his eyes to find the little redblood inches from his face. “I taste pretty good for a peasantblood, don't I?” he breathed. His hot breath slid down the coldblood's face, making him sigh. It left him wide open for Karkat to press against his lips for a kiss. Gamzee didn't resist, instead kissing him back eagerly, and he groaned as Karkat moaned into his mouth. The Capricorn popped his eyes open to discover Kurloz kneeling behind him, pressed right the fuck against him, fingers gripping his nubby horns to hold him in place against the clown's mouth. Those skeletal gloved fingers stroked up and down the keratin, rolling his fingers around them, right at the base where only Gamzee knew they were extra sensitive. 

“Bet you want inside me right now, huh?” he whispered. “All up inside me, inside my tight, hot nook.”

Karkat didn't talk like that in bed. Gamzee knew he was just Kurloz's puppet. But despite that, the Capricorn couldn't help the way his breath caught, or the way his bulge sheath throbbed. His bulge began sliding its way out from that alone, and his nook even became just a bit wet. 

“'M gonna motherfuckin' KILL you, brother,” the coldblood gasped out. He didn't sound nearly as threatening as he'd hoped, however, not with the way the little crab was still moaning above him. He rubbed his hips against the larger troll's, just the barest brush of fabric, enough to cause Gamzee to hiss, before he retreated, pulling back up just out of reach. Gamzee actually almost whined. 

The stitched troll suddenly pulled Karkat upright, parting the kiss. That time Gamzee did whine, the sound mixing with the pathetic little whimper that left his matesprit's mouth, until Kurloz's right hand came forward to lightly touch Karkat's stomach. He ran it up and down his chest and stomach, rubbing in circles, caressing the soft skin. He took a moment to tease the bright red grub scars on his sides, eliciting another quiet sound, before finally dipping down to unbutton his jeans and slip inside. His other arm wrapped around the small chest and shoulders, holding him in place against his body. 

“YOU LIKE THAT, DON'T YOU MUTANT?” Kurloz asked, broadcasting to both of them. 

Karkat's response was to moan and nod furiously. “Yes, fuck yes,” he groaned quietly, jerking his hips forward. 

At his answer, Kurloz removed his skeletal hand from his jeans, earning a whimper. The hand came up to hold his jaw, lifting the Cancer's jaw to expose his throat. His fingers dripped red, thick drops sliding down the mutant's throat, his chest. “OF COURSE YOU DO,” he whispered into their minds. “YOU PEASANTBLOODS MOTHERFUCKIN' LOVE BEING USED, DON'T YOU? UP AND READY TO BE FILLED UP, STUFFED WITH OUR ROYAL BULGES 'TIL YOU MOTHERFUCKIN' SLUT'S OVERFLOW WITH ROYAL INDIGO LIKE THE PAILS YOU ARE.” 

Karkat's only response was a pathetic moan. “Yes, please yes,” he mumbled, his body trembling. Gamzee growled again, but it went ignored, if only for how unconvincing he sounded, as if he'd given up. He just about had. His eyes squeezed shut. 

“Don' be like that, Gamzee,” his nubby little matesprit whined. “I know I'm a dirty mutant, but I'm pretty to look at, ain't I?”

The juggalo groaned, teeth sinking into his lip. His eyes shot open once again at the feeling of cold steel on his neck. Karkat pulled at the hem of the clown's shirt with his sickle. He didn't even look at Gamzee, so intensely focused on the task, as if he was trying to figure out how to go about it without cutting the larger troll. Gamzee looked over the small body to glare at Kurloz. That stitched smile was still pulled up, stained threads pulling at the flesh. Gamzee imagined breaking free and slicing those stitches apart with his claws. He was so fucking DEAD when Gamzee was free -

The clown's thoughts cut right in half when Karkat began tearing at his shirt, slicing clear through it. The blade came dangerously close to gutting Gamzee, but he didn't flinch, and not even a scratch appeared on the newly exposed flesh.

Once the weapon was placed on the bed again, Kurloz bent over him, pushing the crabs mouth against his lover's once more. The Capricorn couldn't help himself this time and gave in, kissing him back hungrily. Karkat's fangs nearly shredded at his lips, and Gamzee could feel his own slice into his baby crab, but it couldn't be avoided with how hard his dancestor had them pressed together. Karkat mewls needily around that long purple tong when Kurloz pinched at his horns with both hands, one still coated in mutant red material. He rubbed the mess across Karkat's horn, making him squirm. The thing that made the usually shouty troll react, though, was the fingers leaving his horns for one hand to press firmly into the back of his head, holding the kissing couple firmly together. The skeletal troll's free hand snaked between the lovers' bodies to rub at Karkat's nook, causing Gamzee to whine and buck his hips from the slight movement, the hand just barely grazing his bulge with every movement.

Kurloz's laughter filled their minds and ears. “A BROTHER NEEDS TO LEARN PATIENCE.” He suddenly gripped Karkat's hair and pulled him off his lover. The redblood whined almost desperately at the loss of contact. The sight made Gamzee's bulge throb. His baby boy was so much more feral than this, so much more like a wild animal. Anyone who got between the two of them would be snarled at dangerously, and very likely end up with their faces torn off. 

But this Karkat.... He was so whiny, so needy, like a deprived little slut. Gamzee had never seen him like this, and even though he knew it wasn't really him, he couldn't help the things it did to his body to watch.

Kurloz rubbed the little crab's dripping flesh a few seconds longer, lavender eyes locked onto his alternate's indigo. He finally pulled it from the crab's pants and moved it to the center of his back, roughly pushing him forward. He gripped the hips of Karkat's jeans and slid them off, revealing that eager red bulge and dripping nook.

Karkat whimpered and reached down, hand going straight for his nook, but Kurloz growled, the dangerous sound making him halt and whimper again. “Please.”

“PLEASE WHAT?”

“Please, let me touch it,” he begged, his voice weak and desperate.

“NO” was the simple response. The mutant squirmed and opened his mouth to plead again, but the highblood pressed a hand over his mouth and leaned into his ear, his finger held to his own mouth eerily similar to how Karkat had done so to Gamzee just moments previous. “HUSH.” Karkat immediately ceased making any noise.

Gamzee growled. “If a brother's gonna get his use on with my motherfuckin' matesprit as his pailin' marionette, at least let him fuckin' enjoy it.”

The bard's angry plea went ignored as Kurloz nudged the crab forward again, and his small clawed hands found his lover's pants right away, sliding them off. Gamzee's teeth found his bleeding lip and his eyes closed as his bulge slid free, writhing against its owner's thighs. It was already smearing rich indigo across his skin, curling and coiling in on itself.

“Let me touch him,” his baby crab demanded suddenly. Gamzee's legs fell open, unconsciously pleading with Karkat.

“PATIENCE, MOTHERFUCKERS.”

“How's a brother supposed to have motherfuckin' patience like this?” the bound coldblood growled. 

“That's why you're tied up, clown,” Karkat answered hazily for him, his voice taking on a different edge.

Kurloz began to remove his own clothing, dropping those purple shorts and skeletal pants around his knees. The little crab stiffened up, his eyes widening. The bright purple glow faded from his dim, empty eyes, revealing confused nearly-crimson orbs that were slowly growing angrier by the second. It was clear to the juggalo that Karkat had been aware of everything all along, and he wasn't happy about being used as an instrument for the mime's desires. Once again, Gamzee wondered just what the skeletal troll had done to Karkat, what he'd done to his matesprit's pan. 

Without warning, Kurloz jerked the mutant around and forced him on his hands and knees, exposing his nook clearly for his coldblooded matesprit's viewing. Karkat growled and struggled, a stream of curses beginning to leave his lips, but the mute was having none of it. Judging by the gagging that immediately followed and the fingers at Karkat's jaws, Gamzee had no doubt that his dancestor's bulge was down his baby crab's throat. Even though he wanted to stop this all, especially now that the crab was clearly free from the mind rape he'd been under, the clown found himself staring hard at the cherry red that dripped down the little troll's thighs. He wanted his baby boy' nook closer, seated over his face so he could lean up and lick it all off, clean up the mutant's mess and eat out that molten softness, pushing his long tongue as deep at it would go. He had never felt so disgusted with himself. He wanted to help Kurloz USE his matesprit, fill his Karkat, his baby crab, up just like a bucket. 

The redblood's whole body suddenly shuddered, and the sound of his gagging tore Gamzee's eyes up from the pretty mutant nook to Kurloz's face. A large part of him still wanted to slice his stitches open with his claws and shove his bulge down the mime's own protein chute, while another smaller, darker part wanted to be in his place, having his bulge squeezed tight by the little mutant's throat. He felt sick, appalled by his own desires. 

The Cancer choked again and moved to pull his mouth off Kurloz, concerning the younger Makara for a moment. He knew Karkat could handle quite a bit down that throat of his. But a skeletal hand on the back of his neck stopped him, making his body spasm and jerk. Kurloz smiled at his alternate, lips straining at the thread hard enough that Gamzee could see the holes in the skin stretch open. Gamzee wanted to snarl at him, to do anything in his power to make the mime just go away, for this to not be happening. But there was nothing he could do or say that would make a difference at all. So he gave up, laying back to watch that mutant nook tremble and drip, to listen to his baby boy gag and choke on his dancestor's bulge. 

After a few moments of Karkat's distress, Kurloz took hold of those nubby little horns and forcibly pulled Karkat's head off him, allowing the mutant to gasp and choke on air. He coughed a few times and gagged, his head turned to allow Gamzee to see a small amount of indigo spill from the crab's lips. Just the second the Cancer finished coughing up the fluids, cherry red gathering at eyes that were squeezed shut in pain, the mime squeezed his horn in what must have been a painful manner and jerked him back to his bulge, slamming his mouth on and off it furiously. Gamzee watched Karkat's ass bob with the movement of his struggles, and loved every second of what he was watching, including the way Karkat pulled back against him, hands coming up to push against the mime's thighs uselessly when his head was finally held still for Kurloz to mercilessly thrust into his mouth.

Kurloz stopped thrusting suddenly, holding Karkat's head harder than before. His head fell back and he groaned loudly, hips trembling against the mutant's face. Gamzee watched as Karkat continued to struggle, hating himself because all he wanted right then was to see the little crab's face as he was forced to swallow down the mime's fluid. 

He released Karkat suddenly, and Gamzee could see he still held a mouthful. Tears streamed his face and his face was smeared with purple and crimson tinted fluid. He leaned forward as if to spit, but Kurloz stopped him, gripping his hair as he looked down at him sternly. “SWALLOW.”

The crab glared up at him, his nearly red eyes glowing in the dark with his fury. 

The mime's smile faltered, settling into a slight frown. His free hand gripped Karkat's jaw, large palm covering his mouth completely. “COME ON MOTHERFUCKER,” he snarled inside their skulls. “BE A GOOD SLUT AND SWALLOW.” As if to emphasize the point, his fingers moved to cover Karkat's nose. After a few patient moments of the crab struggling to pry the highblood's grip off his face and of Gamzee's bulge writhing at the sight, he finally swallowed, a loud pained sound. His body trembled with lack of air, but Kurloz still didn't release him yet. Instead, he smiled largely, patting the crab's dirtied cheek as he spoke. “THERE'S A GOOD MUTANT,” he purred, his hand moving to caress down Karkat's cheek. His thumb rubbed a fresh tear into the soft flesh, trailing down into the violet-purple slimy mess of drool and fluid that stained his jaw, before he finally let go of him completely, dropping the mutant to collapse to his face on the bed.

Karkat panted harshly through his nose, his shoulders heaving with every rasping breath. Gamzee licked his lips, a tiny whimper escaping from the ache of his own need. He felt like he didn't even deserve to look at his baby crab anymore, and turned his head away but before he closed his eyes, Karkat got up on his knees. Gamzee turned his attention back to him, watching what was about to unfold nervously. Karkat glared at Kurloz for a moment, leading the juggalo to believe his little crab was about to go off on the older male, and Gamzee opened his mouth, wanting to warn Karkat to just shut up and stop fucking himself over. But Karkat surprised him, suddenly spitting a small mouthful of the mime's own indigo directly onto his painted face.

The two Capricorns froze, both clearly shocked at the sudden rebellion. Kurloz's smile dropped instantly. Karkat's expression didn't change at all and he held his ground, simply glaring at him in open hatred and defiance. 

“Guess you should have made sure I fucking swallowed it, shouldn't you, you stitched-up – ” 

A loud smack filled the room, he Cancer's head snapping violently to the right with the sound of flesh impacting. Gamzee's eyes widened. He stared hard at his little crab, watching as crimson and indigo dripped past his lips. 

Before either of the matesprits had a chance to react, the mime's gloved hand was at the back of Karkat's neck, hauling him up. “CLEAN IT UP MOTHER FUCKER.” His thumb wrapped around the delicate throat, pressing threateningly into his trachea to make the little rebellious troll cough. “AND DON'T TRY TO BE CUTE.” His eyes held a deadly glint to them, a spark of something that said Karkat would be stupid to disobey him now. 

The mime released his throat and Gamzee watched as he used Karkat's hair to haul him up to his face. The mutant trembled, with rage the bard assumed, but he kept quiet and only glared at the dancestor before he leaned forward, his bleeding lips parted, and darted his tongue out, licking a the purple that dripped off the highblood's face. The crab grimaced, and Gamzee saw smears of facepaint across his tongue as he worked. When finished, there was a large space of gray troll skin that showed through the eery skeletal paint. Karkat's lips were smeared black, indigo and crimson. Gamzee knew it must have stung the wounded flesh, but that wasn't close to the reason he wanted to lick it all off the mutant. 

Kurloz pushed him forward again, roughly turning him to face his matesprit. He held the redblood's jaw firmly, forcing him to look down at Gamzee. The clown averted his gaze, ashamed that Karkat had to see him so aroused while watching his lover's torture and humiliation. He felt a sharp stinging between his thighs and he hissed, staring down his body to see Karkat had been shoved down by the mime's hand atop his head, forcing him between Gamzee's legs. He flinched, preparing himself for the hatred he knew he would see in Karkat's eyes, but he saw none. The little crab was trying to glare, but he looked so broken and defeated, despite the momentary defiance from minutes earlier. He clearly struggled to keep the anger upon his face, and the juggalo coldblood saw through his baby boy instantly.

All Gamzee saw in the Cancer's red eyes was pain and betrayal. 

And it aroused him even more.

He shut his eyes, unable to stare at the torment and despair in his lover's face any longer. He hissed, bucking his hips up unconsciously when a familiar hot tongue began to work at the base of his tentacle. At this point, he almost hoped Karkat would bite his bulge off, but he knew Karkat would never hurt him like that, never hurt him the way he himself had been, still would be. He gave a quiet groan when Karkat began sucking on the side of his member and couldn't resist popping an eye open. The mutant's eyes were still trained on him, his head tilted sideways to slide his mouth up and down the length of the tentabulge, his tongue curled out on his way up the length and curled around the tip, using it to suck it into his mouth. 

“Motherfuck!” the highblood hissed out, unable to help himself as he bucked up, helping his matesprit to take the length in to his throat. Gamzee was unable to look away, despite the expressions running over his little crab's face, and it was Karkat who finally broke eye contact first, squeezing his eyes shut tightly. This left Gamzee free to watch his expression, watch the slightest translucent cherry that appeared at the corner of his eyes, watch the discomfort that crossed his face when Kurloz pulled his hair and pushed him further onto the clown's bulge. The Cancer gagged, his throat convulsing in wondrous ways around Gamzee's length, and the highblood couldn't help but thrust his hips up, trying to make him take even more. The mime planted Karkat's mouth firmly against his alternate's hips, forcing his entire length down the tight convulsing passage. Karkat made small pained noises, coughing hard around the tentacle, but he made no move to really struggle, allowing Kurloz to hold his head in place. Violet fluid trailed from his lips, the mix colors of Gamzee's material and Karkat's saliva, dripping down to join the wetness of Gamzee's own dripping nook. 

It was all too much for the juggalo. Karkat had no idea what he was doing by ceasing his struggles, and the clown wanted to keep it that way. He was such a good mutant slut, such a faithful little whore, finally accepting his place. Gamzee felt sick for the thought, but he couldn't hide from the voice, couldn't shut it out. A flash of fear appeared across Karkat's face, and he still didn't struggle. That was what finally pushed the Capricorn over the edge, making him groan loudly as he shot directly down his matesprit's throat. Karkat choked and sputtered, his whole body heaving as if he was unable to keep it down. The mime flicked his horn hard in warning before he jerked the redblood's head back up. A fang scraped nearly painfully against the ever-so-slowly retreating tentacle, but Gamzee barely flinched. He deserved it, and more.

Karkat's body was nearly slack at this point, save for the occasional gasp of air and hard swallow to keep the contents of his stomach down, and he allowed Kurloz to move him around as if playing with a ragdoll. “MOTHERFUCKIN' BEAUTIFUL, LITTLE PEASTANTBLOOD FINALLY LEARNING HIS PLACE.” He held Karkat by the throat, tilting his jaw up as if showing a prized barkbeast off at a woof show. Gamzee watched as his dancestor leaned forward and ran a stitched kisses across the mutant's violet-smeared cheek, When he pulled away, his mouth was slicked with the substance , soaking into his already stained threading. He jerked Karkat's jaw, forcing their mouths together in a silent but clear order to clean it up. Karkat didn't argue this time, his tongue darting out once again to lap at the colorful mess, going so far as to lap between the threads to get every drop. 

The mime seemed satisfied by the new found obedience and patted his cheek, pushing him away. Karkat allowed himself to be pushed and prodded, still refusing to look at his lover. The highblood finally pushed the Cancer onto his face between Gamzee's thighs and forced his legs open, causing the little crab to brace himself on his arms. Neither of the matesprits had any warning before Karkat yelled, the Capricorn's hips suddenly pressed flush against his thighs. The look of pain (and near-pleasure) that appeared across his heart's face prevented Gamzee's bulge from re-sheathing, and it began sliding out again completely, writhing hard and twisting when Karkat whimpered. Kurloz was going to die for the things he brought out in the juggalo. But after that... The rest, Gamzee only had himself to blame. He didn't even think Karkat was going to want to look at him after this. He was going to be scared of Gamzee now, terrified and sickened by the way he was getting off on all the things being done to the dirty little mutant. The juggalo wouldn't fucking blame him for it, either. 

Kurloz reached forward, leaning over the crab again, and forced his mouth open by shoving two fingers past his lips, prying his jaws open. To Gamzee's surprise, his crab still didn't fight it, and allowed Kurloz to pound into him while fingerfucking his mouth simultaneously. A small torrent of saliva continued to drip from Karkat's mouth, soaking into the gloves on the Capricorn's hands, gloves that were still stained from Karkat's nook earlier. The crab's eyes were beginning to go unfocused and he stared blankly at a spot on the juggalo's thigh. His little crab was broken, and Gamzee hated himself, not because he didn't protect him, but because he wished he'd been the one to do it. 

The mime wrenched Karkat up by the mouth and, his bulge still inside him, arranged the mutant so they were both straddling the clown. Gamzee shook his head and swallowed thickly. “A-ain't you done enough, brother?” His voice trembled as he stared at his baby's face. “He's had plenty. Just let him motherfuckin' go.” 

The mime tilted his head to the side, a false mask of innocent curiosity upon his face. “YOU DON'T SOUND NONE TOO CONVINCING, MOTHERFUCKER.”

He was right. Gamzee knew it, and so did the mutant whose nook was bared above his bulge, if the defeated look in his eyes said anything. He still made no move to help fuck (rape) his beautiful redblood, so his dancestor took it upon himself to reach below Karkat and grasp the squirming tentacle painfully, directing it to the familiar molten heat above it. 

He bulge went right inside, slithering against the thicker purple tentacle it joined. The mime, fingers still between the mutant's jaws, used that gloved hand to propel him over Gamzee's body, the Capricorn shivering at the cool drops of saliva that fell upon his skin, until their lips were inches apart. Despite knowing how little he deserved it, Gamzee strained to kiss him, to press their mouth's together, but his dancestor jerked Karkat back a few inches, causing the younger clown to wince at the whimpers of pain that left his baby's throat. 

The bulges inside the crab twisted together, tangling and writhing as if in battle for who could make the small creature break first, until they finally settled on wrapping around each other and working together, the juggalo allowing Kurloz to move both their tentacles together as he began thrusting into the crab once again. 

The gloved fingers in Karkat's mouth pulled at his cheek, eliciting another pained whimper, while his other hand wrapped around his throat, making those red eyes snap open, locking with Gamzee's indigo. He struggled to swallow, but the mime's hand squeezed, cutting off even that little bit of movement. Droplets of saliva and blood dripped onto Gamzee's lips and he groaned quietly, licking it up eagerly. Every thrust Kurloz gave caused a small flinch of pain to cross his face, a strangled sound to leave his mouth that Gamzee knew would have been a yelp if his throat weren't being squeeze tight enough the little Cancer's trachea might well collapse in the near future. 

Just as the color of Karkat's face began moving past red, Kurloz released him, and Gamzee's mouth found his crab's, kissing him shamefully, desperately. He panted into his mouth barely kissing the juggalo back, barely able to make his mouth function properly, but he gave a loud cry of pained pleasure, choking Gamzee's eyes open. From what he could see past the mutant's body, his dancestor had grabbed Karkat's bulge, stroking it tightly. Karkat melted into the coldblood's mouth, gasping and mewling against his matesprit. The mime's free hand pressed against the mutant's back, holding him down while the Capricorns' lengths slammed into him repeatedly, pounding him harder each time. 

Without warning, the cherryblooded troll tensed up, his too-full nook tightening enough to make both highbloods groan simultaneously in pleasure, and he came hard, keening against Gamzee's lips as his fluids dripped around their bulges, the smallest amounts able to escape past the tentacles that nearly sealed his nook up. The sudden tightness seemed to be what the two subjugglators needed, for both their bodies shuddered, Kurloz's head falling back with a muffled groan and hard exhales leaving his nose while his thrusts stuttered. Gamzee's hips thrust upwards hard and he bit the cherryblood's already-ruined lip to silence himself, the crimson blood coating his taste buds nicely. 

The mime pulled Karkat back up by the hair, holding his body up as if to silently show Gamzee his matesprit's swollen figure. His stomach was rounder, protruding in a way that had to be uncomfortable for how full he was with his own material and that of the highbloods', as well as the bulges still deep inside him. Gamzee had to admit, he did feel sorry for his little mutant, as the near-pain and discomfort was written all over his face, but he still couldn't help the part of him that saw his baby crab as a living bucket. He could almost see the violet slurry through the nubby-horned troll's skin, there was so much, and it made him want to see how long Karkat could hold it inside himself. 

Instead, he merely gave a weak growl and glared at Kurloz. “Motherfuckin' done now, brother?” He could feel his adrenaline begin to pump again, despite having just released twice. He anticipated the second he was free; he was going to shred the mute inside and out. 

The silent mime simply smiled at his alternate and pulled his hips back, allowing their bulges to slip free from the molten hot troll, the near-violet slurry spilling down Karkat's thighs onto the highblood's pelvis and stomach beneath him. As Gamzee watched that all-too-happy smile, his blood-pusher stopped at the sight of his dancestor's eyes filling with that soft-glowing lavender once more, only for Karkat's to follow suite.

The mutant's expression fell blank once again, and his head cocked to the side like a curious barkbeast, before plucking up the sickle Gamzee had forgotten lay on the bed beside them. It was an eery sight for the Capricorn to behold and it sent him snarling at Kurloz once again, thrashing at the bonds harder than ever before now. 

“Shoosh, Gamzee,” the redblood warned, pressing the blade flush against the tender skin of his bruising throat. This effectively shut Gamzee up, the clown taking solace only in the fact that now he could wait, plan, and hunt the mime down. Judging by his burgundy-tinted stitching, Kurloz realized this as well, and would be happily waiting for the moment. Gamzee was just fine with that. 

He couldn't withhold the small growl as he watched his dancestor pull up his purple shorts and wipe his hand free of red genetic material onto Karkat's already color-stained face. The cherry troll merely smiled, his face filled with worship, love and devotion. 

The mime left without another word, leaving the juggalo to stare up at his purple-eyed matesprit in shame. He both anticipated Karkat's release (if he ever was, that is) and dreaded it all at the same time. He wanted Karkat to untie him so he could wrap his baby troll up in his arms and cry with him. He wanted to carry him to the ablution chamber, clean him up, take care of that shredded lip of his, his bruising cheek and throat. He wanted to tell him he was safe now and that he would never let anything like that happen to him ever again and that he was so sorry he was such a disgusting monster. 

But at the same time, he didn't want Karkat's eyes to turn red ever again. Because as long as he stared at those pretty lavender orbs, as long as he could see that loving, devoted expression, he didn't have to think about what a monster he was, what he had put and will still be putting Karkat through. He didn't have to think about his baby crab screaming at him for his fucked up ways, or breaking down atop him in fear and humiliation, or even just getting up and leaving. He didn't want Karkat to leave him, couldn't take it if Karkat left, would motherfuckin' die if he lost his baby crab. 

The blade wavered, causing the indigo to tense up. His eyes never left Karkat's face, and he watched the purple glow slowly fade, the color drip away until Gamzee saw that beautiful strawberry red again. 

Karkat looked confused and wary, but he tensed up suddenly, looking around himself in fear.

“He's gone, Karbro,” the Capricorn assured him quietly, not speaking louder than a whisper, his voice timid as if speaking to a kicked barkbeast babe.

The confirmation seemed to make Karkat relax a touch, but he didn't put the blade down. Gamzee watched him nervously. He had....not quite expected this sort of reaction. His baby Cancer was acting far from strange. Had Kurloz...broken his mind? Had GAMZEE?

“Karbro,” he began quietly. “He ain't here no more, bro. Gone like the motherfuckin' coward he is. You can put yer pretty blade down now. C'mon baby crab, 's alright now.”

Said crab suddenly began shaking his head furiously, cherry tears starting up again. “No, don't you fucking lie to me, you gods damned asshole!” His outburst, despite how loud the small troll tended to be, despite Gamzee outright predicting it, shocked the Makara. “I'm not stupid, and you aren't either. You know it's not alright now. You fucking know it!”

He was shaking, trembling with sobs, and he brought a bare arm up to wipe his eyes, cleaning away a good portion of the burgundy mess from his features. Gamzee's eyes couldn't help but to linger on a smear of indigo. 

“Karkat, untie me now,” the juggalo ordered, using Karkat's real name to demonstrate just how serious he was. “I ain't fuckin' around no more.” 

The Cancer continued to shake his head, recklessly close to nicking himself on the colored steel. “I can't Gamzee, I can't. I love you but you'll fucking stop me, I won't go through with it if I do. I'm sorry I'm so fucking sorry!”

The subjugglator's eyes widened, realization slowly dawning on him. He reached out with his own chucklevoodoos to stop him, but it was too late. Before his eyes, the crab's blade flashed, the curve hooking under his jaw and tearing messily through the cartilage of his trachea, not quite sharp enough to make a clean slice. Karkat made a small pained sound and faltered, hesitation filling his eyes, before he gave a harsh jerk of his arm, pulling it clean through.

Blood didn't drip this time. It poured from the small troll's severed throat, so much it was impossible to believe that such a small body had previously held so much inside of it. Indigo tears fell from Gamzee's eyes at the sight of so much red, so much red, all of the red, and it was all his fault, completely all his fault, his baby crab was _dying on top of him _and it was _ALL HIS FAULT _. He was sobbing, screaming, pleading, jerking at the bonds at his wrists hard enough his own flesh tore and bled but he didn't stop, couldn't stop, had to get free had to hold him at least hold him before that fiery light died in his baby, his Karkat _but didn’t ya see, motherfucker, didn't ya up an' see how ya made that wicked red, that motherfuckin' gorgeous crimson bleed outta yer baby crab, the filthy mutant whore, your mirthful blasphemy, that light's gone brother, all gone, ya ain't never gonna be getting' yer fill on of it again HIS KARKAT WAS DYING AND HE COULDN'T EVEN FUCKING HOLD HIM._____

The clown was jolted out of his panicked stupor when Karkat dropped the blade to the floor, the handle making a dull thump against the carpet. The redblood swayed a bit, his eyes hazy, unfocused, before he leaned forward, motions slow and jerky, and patted Gamzee's cheek. He made a “shoosh” motion with his fingers before he closed his eyes and laid atop his crying juggalo, wrapping his slick arms around him as best as he could. Gamzee felt the blood soak into the bed beneath him, into his hair, dripping down his skin. Karkat, everything that Karkat was, covered him completely. The Cancer made small, pained gurgling noises into his ear, wet sounds that made the indigo's tears flow faster, his stomach churn harder, until suddenly the sounds were no more.

He never got to hold his baby crab.


End file.
